


reune

by quantum27



Series: pseudonym [2]
Category: Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brainwashing, Broken Bones, Gen, Injury, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28122636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantum27/pseuds/quantum27
Summary: In which a fate worse than death may yet still be undone.
Relationships: Alan Bradley & Kevin Flynn, Alan Bradley & Sam Flynn, Clu (Tron) & Kevin Flynn, Kevin Flynn & Sam Flynn
Series: pseudonym [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2060235
Comments: 19
Kudos: 22





	1. Well. This isn't The Best Scenario, is It?

The fact that this had all gone so wrong so quickly shouldn’t have been so surprising. 

It had all started when they had decided to permanently close the Arcade. It had been a painful thought but it'd been five years since  _ he’d _ disappeared. And without Flynn himself, the crowds that had gathered there had seemed to disappear. Alan had come to the conclusion that maybe it hadn’t  _ all _ been about the games but rather the man himself. Flynn had always said business had been slower when he wasn’t there. This principle was now in full effect now that...Now that he wasn’t ever there. 

The thought of the Arcade being left to slowly rot in silence had devastated Sam. So Alan had decided to take him to the place one last time until the time came for it’s doors to open again. If that time  _ ever _ came to begin with. It was almost. Almost like a wake in all honesty. A wake with only two people. Lora was still in DC and Roy was...well Alan wasn’t sure about what he was doing and that might’ve been for the best. 

It was all bittersweet. And  _ wrong. _

And then Sam had wanted to play ‘ _ Tron’.  _ The Game that had been theirs. All of theirs honestly. It had been a love letter from Flynn to all of them. It really was. (Though the photoshoot for the marketing hadn’t felt like it.) 

There had been something wrong with the cabinet though. Unfortunately, Alan was not an expert at arcade machines. But Sam had been so Eager to play it, they had tried to put a quarter in anyway. And then the quarter didn’t stay in the machine. But it had led to an intriguing discovery. The floor was roughened up, like something had been moved over it a repeated number of times. And the only thing that it could be was the cabinet. 

And that had led to a secret passage of all things. And a secret office. And  _ The Laser _ ; Lora’s laser. Because for some godforsaken reason Flynn had Lora’s laser in his secret only-can-be-accessed-by-an-arcade-machine office.

Alan had then decided to check the terminal, his need for answers far too strong to resist. Then Alan’s mistake had been letting Sam be close to his side instead of immediately taking him home and checking it at a later time. 

After all there was something kids were known for. Touching things. And Sam had put his curious hands on the terminal the only minute he looked away. Having the laser be shot when he was looking directly at it had been. Something. 

And then suddenly they were in an entirely different world. A world of dazzling lines of light running along obsidian streets. It was entrancing. And it made far too much sense. 

Then a strange group of people who looked straight out of one of Flynn’s games came and demanded he come with them. If it had just been Alan, he’d have been more careful. Instead he went willingly with them, if only for Sam’s sake. 

They’d taken them both to a strange place...with strange women... _ Sirens. _ The details of it didn’t matter, (no really, they didn’t; And Alan would rather put the experience in the back of his mind.) but now they were wearing similar suits (with Identity Disks, a thing Alan had never thought as a possibility to be real. He’d also been rather lucky to keep his coat considering he’d taken it off to put around Sam’s shoulders due to the cold initially,) to the people around them. Though they weren’t quite people. They were  _ programs _ . Just like in the stories Flynn had liked to tell Sam. 

And then the guards had taken him to Flynn. Flynn who was alive. And also wearing rather odd clothing- the robe and the golden light lines were not exactly what Alan would’ve expected. Though he’d given him the benefit of the doubt; it had been five years after all.

* * *

“Flynn,” He breathed, “ _ Flynn! _ ” 

Alan practically stumbled forward, unable to quite believe his eyes. 

“Alan. Bradley.” Flynn replied with a brilliant smile. And oh, how Alan had missed seeing Flynn’s smile. 

Though, the long missing man made no move to step forward and greet Alan, who had stopped only a few feet in front of him. Usually, Flynn would’ve initiated contact; grasped him in a bear hug. But then again, it’d been five years. People could change a lot in five years. Or at least. That’s what Alan told himself. 

“I’m- Flynn, I don’t know what to say.” Alan’s fingers were eager to reach for his glasses to fidget; but he wouldn’t dare let his eyesight be lessened in this moment. Not when he was seeing the impossible. 

“I’m glad you came, man. It’s good to see you.” 

“Flynn, I- What happened? Why did you have the laser? Tell me you didn't leave on purpose-” Alan paused, looking behind him to Sam. 

He was staring at Flynn, eyes wide. He looked scared. Which made sense considering he hadn’t seen him in so long. 

“Sam, why don’t you come here?” Flynn asked when he too saw him. 

“Sam, c’mon it’s alright. It’s your dad.” Alan held out a hand to the boy. 

Sam’s eyes darted to his hand and then back to Flynn. 

“You’re not my dad.” Sam said, voice far too grave for a child. 

“Hey, buddy, why don’t you listen to Alan, huh?” Flynn replied. 

And then something twisted in Alan’s chest. There was something Wrong about the tone. Flynn had  _ never _ spoken to Sam like that. Almost condescendingly. 

“You’re not my dad.” Sam stomped his foot. 

“Sam, buddy, it’s me.” 

“No you’re not- You’re-” A light blazed in Sam’s eyes, “You’re Codified Likeness Utility.  _ Clu. _ ”

“Sam…” Alan said slowly before stopping. Clu had been one of the characters in Flynn’s stories that he’d always told Sam. His custom made action figure even looked like the man himself; something that Alan had always thought was funny and maybe a little obnoxious and nothing more. He looked back to the man who wore Flynn’s face, and looked at him. Really  _ looked. _

The most obvious thing was the color of the circuit lines. All the good guys in ‘ _ Tron _ ’ had worn blue. But the real thing that finally clicked with Alan? His eyes were Off. Flynn’s eyes had always been kind and full of light. But this man’s eyes? They were the opposite. Something dark twisted in them. 

Alan had the sudden urge to Get Out of Here. 

“C’mon Sam.” Alan grabbed the boy’s hand perhaps a little too roughly, “We’re going home.” 

Just as he did so. Clu (Assuming that Sam was right,) smirked, “Well. You can certainly  _ try. _ ”

Alan stopped in his steps, and turned back to Clu. The program only turned his head, and raised a hand, gesturing to the door. 

“Like I said. You can try. But getting to the portal without my help will be impossible.” 

Alan, who didn’t know what the portal even was retorted, “I’ll take my chances, thanks.” 

The programmer then dragged Sam in a half-run back through where they came.

* * *

Clu tutted to himself as he watched the two retreat. They really thought they could get away from him? This was going to be fun. He turned to the corner of the room. 

  
  


“Rinzler. Don’t Let them get Too Far, hm?” 

* * *

They were being followed. The only reason Alan probably noticed was the fact that being in such high positions at ENCOM had led to more than a few journalists tailing him. In a way he had developed a sixth sense because of it. Whoever that was following him was probably not a journalist. If they even had journalists in computers. Who knew at this point? Flynn _had_ to know. Where the hell was he? What had happened? Alan would give anything for the man to show up out of nowhere like he used to. An element of chaos that _made sense_. 

The streets of the city weren’t too dissimilar to that of the ones back home. It was odd to have such familiarity in such an  _ alien _ world. Apparently ‘ _ Star Trek _ ’ wasn’t too far off in that regard. Aside from the aesthetics, it might as well have been any city from around the world. 

They were almost running, but not quite. Alan had good enough sense to not draw that much attention to them. He held Sam’s hand tight, not daring to let his hand slip from his even for a second. He was  _ not _ going to lose Sam.

His breath had started to run ragged though, and Sam was struggling to keep up. 

“Uncle Alan, can we stop for a second? None of the Reds are following us!” 

Right. Reds had always been what Flynn had called the bad guys in ‘ _ Tron _ ’. He took a quick sweep of the area around them. Sam was right, there weren’t any Reds. Actually, there wasn’t much of anyone. The initial crowded streets they’d gone through had thinned out. Despite that, the feeling of being watched persisted.

Alan frowned, and turned to the boy. Sam had been dealing with this remarkably well, all things considered. But he was still just a kid. 

The programmer looked around. There was no one he could see that was actively taking interest in them. Taking a breath, Alan pushed the feelings aside and turned to an alleyway a few yards ahead from them. 

“This way.” He said decisively before they ducked into the alleyway. 

As soon as they got into it, Alan leaned against a wall and let himself relax for a brief moment. Or relax as well as he could in this situation. Sam slipped his hand out of his, rubbing his fingers. Alan only sent him an apologetic smile, a twinge in his eyebrows. His own hand was sweaty and stiff, and he wiggled his fingers, trying to get the tension out. With the other he took off his glasses to give them a brief spin before deciding against fidgeting with them. As much as he wanted to. 

Sliding his glasses back on, he turned his attention back to Sam. It was rather cute, actually- the suit- It’d make an excellent Halloween costume; surely better than any of Alan could make or buy. Normally Sam would’ve been thrilled at the idea, but the kid had been on edge the entire time. Like he just  _ knew _ that something was Off the entire time. He hadn’t geeked out over it at all. Only a surprisingly grim line of a smile set on the boy’s face. Alan had been so worried about Sam’s safety that he’d never even worried about Sam’s emotions. 

“You look pretty good in that suit.” Alan half-said, half-huffed, “Just like Tron, eh?” 

Sam blinked back at him, before pointing back at him, “Uncle Alan, you’re the one who has his face.” 

That sentence settled uncomfortably in his chest. Clu- Clu had looked like Flynn. And that meant...That meant that  _ Tron-  _

He shut that train of thought down. He didn’t have the mercy of time to be able to even begin to think about that. Not yet. 

“Well, I suppose you could argue he has  _ my _ face instead,” Alan replied, trying not to let his voice waver. 

“Hey!” Sam properly smiled, “You even have a symbol like he does!” 

“I do?” Alan furrowed his eyebrows, looking down at his chest. 

It was smaller than what had been in the merchandise and promotional photos; right in the center of his chest, around the size of his fist. And. It wasn’t a ‘T’, either. 

“Is that the ‘at’ symbol??” He muttered to himself, giving it a tap. The circuits flared a little at the motion. It definitely looked like the ‘at’ symbol; the lowercase ‘a’ nestled into a nest. 

He looked back to Sam, “I guess you’re right. I didn’t even notice.” 

“It’s pretty cool, Al!!!” He deflated a little, a slight pout coming on, “I didn’t get any special symbols or anything.” 

“You don’t need a special symbol, Sam,” He stopped away from the wall to reach out and ruffle Sam’s hair, “You’re more special than any symbol could ever be.” 

Sam groaned and pushed away his hand, but he was smiling. 

“ _ Alaaaaaaaaaan _ -” 

“Sam.” Alan grinned back but paused as the lights on walls around them flickered. 

“Sam.” He repeated, looking around as they did. He was fairly sure they weren’t supposed to do that. 

They flickered once. Twice more.

Alan looked towards the opening of the alley, and took in a rushed breath of air. There was  _ someone _ there. 

“Sam, I want you to get to the back of the alley, do you hear me?” He shot a look behind them. It was a dead end alleyway, but it was better than nothing.

“But, Alan-”

“No. Go, Sam.” 

He didn’t look as Sam ran to the back of it, only able to stare at the figure at the entrance. He cut an imposing figure. Silent. Helmeted. A line of red across his jacket and his helmet glowing ominously. 

It sent shivers up his spine as the figure stared him down. 

And then something. Odd happened to the figure. Like reality itself was bending around him; the light-lines flickered again around them, before finally going out. It left them in nearly complete darkness except for their own circuit-lines. 

“What are you doing!?” Alan clenched his fists. 

The figure took a step forward. Alan held his ground. 

Everything felt like it was in slow motion. Alan had to  _ do  _ something. His thoughts raced in time with his heartbeat, trying to think of something,  _ anything _ to do. 

“Disk!” He said aloud as the thought struck him. The figure cocked his head as the word bounced off the walls of the alley. He started walking towards Alan faster.

Alan reached behind his back, twisting awkwardly, tapping it wildly to find it. And then he realized with sinking horror that he was wearing his jacket. His disk was under the jacket. His  _ disk was under the jacket. _

His struggle had cost him precious time as the figure was within his personal space in seemingly seconds. He grabbed Alan by his left arm.

Alan took a step back, almost falling. The-  _ program _ \- Had a firm grip on his arm, preventing him from escaping. 

The program’s lightline brightened, and a wave of  _ something _ ran up Alan’s arm; the odd mirage surrounding the figure strengthening, blues and reds intermingled in a way that made his eyes hurt. 

And then. Nothing Happened. 

“Uhm. Was that supposed to do something?” Alan asked breathlessly, in far too casual a voice. 

The program turned his head curiously, gripping his arm harder. 

“Alright that’s enough of that-” Alan gripped his right hand into a tighter fist before reeling back his arm and letting loose. 

His fist made a satisfying crack against the cool material of the helmet. It would’ve been more satisfying if it was the helmet, and not his bones cracking. He yelped in pain, but the punch was enough to get the program away from him, letting go off his grip on his arm. 

Alan hissed, stumbling backwards, cradling his hand against his chest. He was grateful that for whatever reason the program had grabbed his dominant arm- There could be nothing worse than breaking his dominant hand in any way in some strange computer world. 

The figure looked up back at Alan. The helmet didn’t even have a single scratch. He seemed to contemplate the situation, from what Alan could tell considering he was helmeted.

And then he reached behind his back, and undocked his disk. And Then. There were  _ Two  _ disks. 

“Gee, how lovely of you to offer one to me.” Alan retorted sarcastically at the sight. 

He responded by throwing one towards him. Alan wasn’t sure how he managed to dodge, only running on pure adrenaline and experience of taking care of a child who had a tendency to throw things. 

“That wasn’t what I meant-” He grit out as the disk returned to the figure’s hand. 

Alan side-stepped trying to stay out of the way- He was lucky, the program wasn’t exactly. Good. At throwing the disks. Not bad, but Alan was pretty sure he could do better. 

Speaking of- he ducked, trying to take off his jacket- but with his now hurt hand it was becoming difficult, everytime he brushed it against anything a whole shock of pain ran up his arm. 

“Shit, shit,  _ shit _ -” He hissed, crouching to the ground, a disk flying past him. He blinked, as he watched it go past. The program wasn’t trying to hurt  _ hurt  _ him. He probably should’ve been thankful death wasn’t on the table. Then again. The figure wasn’t exactly being too careful at the same time. One wrong move and- 

The disk flew past him once more, this time  _ very _ close, leaving an awful scratch in the ground. A Warning. 

Alan looked back up at the program. Getting out of this situation was starting to become a more and more hopeless endeavor. 

“Get away from him!!” 

Alan whipped his head around at Sam’s shout, the boy running their way at break-neck speed with a disk in his hand. 

“Sam!!” Alan shouted back, grabbing his arm as he tried to attack the program. Sam jolted back with the force of being stopped so suddenly. 

“Agh! Alan- I’m trying to help!” 

“Sam I told you to stay back!” 

“You were gonna get hurt, I had to do something! Let me go!” 

Alan shook his head, “You’re gonna get yourself killed-” He stopped in his tracks. 

Now would’ve been a perfect time to get them  _ both.  _ And yet the figure had made no move towards them. Alan looked up to him. Their attacker was standing completely still, hands gripping his disk loosely at his sides. Staring them Down. Or more accurately, staring  _ Sam _ down. 

Alan blinked, looking at the kid. He realized with some level of alarm that Sam was shaking. 

“Sam-” Alan whispered, but was interrupted by the motion of the figure moving. Moving Away From Them. 

A hesitant step backwards. And then another. Before Finally. He turned on his heel and  _ Ran _ . 

“Why did he…?” Sam’s voice was small. 

“I don’t know.” 

The two stared blankly at the spot he’d been standing. The street was still dark, none of the light lines had turned back on. They could use this to their advantage. 

“C’mon,” Alan slowly stood up, “We need to go.” 

“Go where?” 

“I don’t- I don’t know. But we can’t stay here.” 


	2. A Moment to Breathe

His chest felt tight. Like he was being Crushed. What was this? 

His hands were shaking as he ran. His disks were digging uncomfortably into them. 

_ Users. _

He slowed, leaning against the wall of a building. The very act of it causing the circuit lines of it to flicker wildly. His grip on his Control was slipping in time with his emotions. Clu would be displeased. 

He looked down to his disks. They glowed steady despite the flickering of their surroundings. The air around them was shifting unsettlingly. His silent frustration was not helping his powers any more than the original emotions that caused them. 

He docked them quickly, and then as he did so he slid down the wall. Sitting was good. It was the opposite of standing. So it was Good. 

He put his head in his hands. And then immediately he took it back out. He reached a hand to trace the reflective material of his helmet. 

The Adult User had  _ punched  _ him. And the Child User? 

His code twisted at the thought of the Child User’s face. 

When the Users had first been in the room with Clu, Rinzler had been waiting. He was Very Good at Not Being Seen- (There was a phrase he’d heard somewhere- about being seen and not heard- but he couldn’t quite remember where-) But he hadn’t gotten quite a clear look at the Child User’s face. The User was so small compared to the Adult User. And Rinzler’s priorities had not been to stop and look at the Child User's face.

There was something about it. Something  _ Wrong. _ It was a User.

And Users were imperfect. A threat to the system. They couldn’t be allowed to run free. Not without Clu’s needed guidance. Their impulsive and chaotic decisions would ruin the balance The Luminary had created. 

And yet Rinzler had  _ ran. _

He couldn’t explain why. The Child User’s face had...had done something to him. Was this what Clu had meant when it came to the Users? This feeling??

It made him want to scream. But Rinzler stayed silent. He wasn’t designed to talk. Wasn’t designed to offer ideas. Only to wait, watch and listen. That was how it was supposed to be. 

He was shaking. His aura was getting stronger, the lightlines of the surrounding buildings flickering wildly. 

* * *

The beacon of light shone in the far distance. The first time it had been alight in  _ cycles.  _ The first time a  **_User_ ** had been on the Grid in cycles. 

Tron clenched his hands. The problem was  _ where _ . His eyes slid to The City. They had to still be there. Though the likelihood of Clu having found them already was high. 

He realized he was incredibly lucky to have gotten to set up this base so recently before this happened. The resistance was slowly spreading out from the edge of the Grid to Clu’s precious City. Whether he wanted to admit it or not. 

There was one problem with this base being so new. They were rather short-staffed.

That didn’t matter. This was something he was going to handle  _ alone. _ Even if. Even if the last time he’d tried to- 

“Tron.” 

Tron turned, brows already furrowed, but sent the program a nod of greeting, “Cutler.” 

Cutler gave him a small smile of acknowledgement. 

“What’s the news?” The security monitor asked as Cutler came to his side. 

“There’s been a Blackout. The first one in  _ cycles _ .” 

Tron closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath before exhaling shortly. “ _ Rinzler. _ ” He practically growled. 

Rinzler; Clu’s personal lackey, and local cryptid figure of the Grid. Hardly anyone had ever seen the program in person. Or at least, lived or been left un-repurposed to say so. His mythos status left behind a wake of horror in its trail. At this point the stories were probably as wild as Clu’s propaganda about the ISOs. One thing was for sure though- Rinzler was a very powerful program and the only sure sign of him was the way he’d leave sections of cities in utter darkness as he made his move.

There were many theories on who Rinzler was. A former ISO, or Virus, repurposed by Clu. An abandoned project by ‘the Creator’ (Oh, how Tron hated that turn of phrase) repurposed by Clu. Dozens upon Dozens of Theories. 

Tron had his own theories on who... _ what _ Rinzler was. Theories he kept locked away deep inside his mind, never to get out for the fear that they might be Real. What they needed to focus on was the fact that he was a threat. Nothing else.

“Then we’ll initiate the Blackout Protocol.” Tron said.

“Already have- got our people coming back to base right this nano.” 

Tron smiled grimly. Cutler was a good program, and an excellent leader. 

Cutler continued, “There is one thing…” He gestured to the window overlooking the landscape, to the City, “You can’t see it because it’s the other side- but it’s the Blackout we’ve ever seen.”

“How so?” 

“The entire other half of the City.” 

Tron narrowed his eyes as he tried to see beyond the immediately visible buildings. There was a significant darkness behind the buildings there usually wasn’t that he hadn’t noticed before. 

“Glitches and Gridbugs.” Tron cursed, “Half the City.”

He had to get going, had to find the User if he still could. The fact that the City was still dark meant he had a chance. 

“Cutler, I’m going to the City. I want  _ no one _ to follow me. Everyone needs to stay here. Stay Safe.” Tron ordered as he started walking towards the door. 

“You’re going to try and find the User.” 

Tron stopped in his stride, turning back to the younger program, “Yes.” 

“Well if you’re out there can you look for  _ him? _ I would obviously- but with the Protocol...he missed his check-in.” 

Tron’s circuits flickered in dismay “Damn it all.” He shook his head, “Alright if I can. But I  _ can’t _ let Clu get the User.” 

Cutler was somber, “I understand.” 

The two shared one last mutual silent nod of goodbye. Tron proceeded to make his way out, his suit’s white color bleeding into the black of his stealth suit, circuits flickering out. 

Cutler sighed as he turned to the window, placing a palm against the cool glass. In the distance, more of the City’s lights flickered unsurely. 

“Please. Stay safe, Beck.” 

* * *

The darkness was never-ending. It was lucky that they had built-in flashlights now. 

Alan glanced around, no signs of any programs of any kind around. Last time they’d taken a moment to breathe it hadn’t gone so well but...He paused, Sam staggering beside him as he did. 

“Sam, can you do something for me?” 

“Yeah, of course.” Sam’s voice was quiet. 

Alan got down on one knee to make what he was about to ask easier. 

“I need you to take your disk and cut out a hole for mine.” He needed it to be accessible. 

Sam’s eyes went wide, “But what if I cut you?”

“You’re not going to cut me, Sam.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Of course.” Alan lied. 

Sam undocked his disk, looking far less sure about it than he had the last time. It activated with a low hum, shining brightly in the darkness. It struck Alan in what he knew of the lore given to him by Flynn, that the disk in many ways  _ was _ Sam. He blinked the thought away just as he had to many of the small revelations he had before. 

Sam went behind him, putting his left hand on Alan’s shoulders as he slowly began descending his disk towards his back. Heat emanated enough from the disk to warm the part of his back where the disk rested. And then the disk met the coat. Alan closed his eyes as the fabric tore out of reflex. 

“I did it.” Sam breathed out quietly, turning the disk off and docking it. With his own hands he made the hole wider for the whole disk. 

“Good job. See? You did it. I knew you could.” 

Sam threw him a skeptical look. Alan ignored it. 

“Can you do me one more thing? Rip off a strip of that fabric if you can.” 

The fabric tore slowly but surely until he got a sizeable stripe. 

“Alright, thanks.” Alan took the fabric, wrapping it around his broken hand. He needed something stiff to splint it properly, but this would have to do for now, (Even in the low light he could see how quickly his hand had turned ugly colors and swelled.) 

“We should get going.” He pushed himself back off the ground, his knee popping in protest.

“But Al...we don’t even know where we’re going…”

“...I know, Sam, I know.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter but aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah,,,,,,,im. ye.

**Author's Note:**

> .......this wouldn't have happened if it weren't for everyone who encouraged me. You. Know. Who. You. Are. 
> 
> And anyway. Uhm. I'm hoping this is good? Hoping. maybe this isn't good im- JUST GONNA POST IT AND SEE. hopefully i got all the things i needed to thing in there.
> 
> IM VERY AWARE THAT THE SEQUENCE WITH ALAN AND CLU HAPPENS VERY QUICKLY. but. kinda just. get it out of the way. that is not the point of this fic. alright alright i gotta stop anxiously writing notes now.


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